In Silence He Lives
by Kane Martyr
Summary: Ok, this is the beginning of my original story involving a character that i conceved of recently. may be short in the updates, but PLEASE review.Oh, and as of now i dont think any actual FR characters are going to appear for some time. UPDATE: CHAPTER 2 U
1. Prologue

_Prologue_

_"What do you think?"_

_"Oh hells, he's big enough, just put him in. Maybe he can bring in a few coins before he falls."_

_"Karlan, he's young, barely 18. You really think he can survive long in the arena?"_

_"Hah, do you really think I care if he can survive? All that matters is that he puts up a fight, and judging by the bruises on those who have attacked him in the pits, I would say he might make it a few days."_

_"Fine, I'll have the guards move him to the fighter cells immediately."_

_"You sympathize too much Randall, they all are criminals, and they deserve whatever we give them."_

_"Whatever you say old friend."_


	2. Chapter One: First Fight

Chapter One: First Fight

"You DO realize what this means, right?" The young half-elf Sellia said ardently.

Of course, she only got a blank stare in return.

"Oh you must be crazy, you know no one make it very long in the fighter cells! By the gods! Most don't even make it out to the arena, they're killed by rivals in their sleep!" She scolded her companion.

Gesturing quickly in the makeshift sign language the two had developed over time in the prisons of Luskan, the man before her angrily rebuked her curse toward the gods. He then gave her a pleading look, meaning for her to not worry about him. She of course, misunderstood.

"I knew it! You want out! Don't worry, I'll talk to jailor Randall, he'll take pity on you and get you off the list of gladiators."

_"NO!"_ The man gestured violently. He would not try to get out of his fate. For as long as he could remember he was bound to the whims of fate, and he would not try to bend its will now.

"Fine," Sellia sighed with the hints of tears around her eyes, "you have to be careful though! You're the only person I have in here." Sellia swiftly landed a peck on her friend's cheek and ran off out of his cell and down the corridor back to her cell, probably to cry.

_She does not belong here. _The man thought to himself as he shook his head.

Sellia had been abandoned as a child on the streets of Luskan at a very early age, and she had learned to survive by taking what she could, when she could. One day, while stealing some much-needed bread, a guard just happened to spot her and bring her into the Luskan dungeons. Although young, she was very pretty and many tried to take advantage of her. The silent one, as the man was often known as, would not allow that. He viciously injured more than a few prisoners and guards who tried to mistreat the little half-elf. 'Little', by human standards. In reality, she was almost 40 years old.

The silent one picked up the very few belongings he did have in the prison in his crude sack and began his march through the prison to the cells devoted to those who fought daily in the arena for the amusement of the rich citizens of Luskan.

The hot sun shines down upon the dried sandy floor of the arena, causing sweat to run down his face and back. The crowd shouts curses virulently in the background, placing bets against this inexperienced newcomer. But He doesn't think about that. His mind is on his environment. He sees across the arena about 30 feet away his opponent, a veteran battle-mage whose name he cannot remember. A bell will begin the match, and from the way the bets are being yelled, it looks to be a quick one.

A smirch almost reaches his tightened lips. Almost. But this man does not smile, even when talking to his close friend Sellia. He clenches his fists, tightens and then loosens the muscles in his legs, and pops his neck to the left and right.

Jailor Karlan stands on his podium to begin the match.

Taking a deep, relaxing breath into his lungs, He takes a final quick scan of the field before him, notices his opponent flicking his fingers out, obviously with a sell already on his lips, and then closes his eyes.

"Let the battle begin!" Karlan shouts to the roaring applause of the crowd as he rings his magically loud bell.

In that first instant, as the mage throws his arms forward shouting the command for a lighting bolt, the silent one takes one large step forward and then plunges down to the ground in a diagonal roll to his left. The lightening bolt barely sizzles over his right shoulder as He tucks his legs under him and leaps forward amazingly far so He is within five feet of his enemy. Reaching forward with his right hand as the mage rushes through his next spell, he clamps his hand down on the bottom of the veteran's jaw, interrupting the spell, and jerks down violently. A gush of blood followed by the shocked silence of the crowd as the silent one holds in his hand the lower jaw of his foe. The mage stares up at his face with a mixture of sheer terror and amazement as He leans forward and wraps his arm around the mage's throat and twists rapidly, snapping the neck of his first challenger.

Without another thought, the silent one walked swiftly back to the entrance to the cells, leaving behind the grotesque corpse of his former opponent and the deafening silence of the crowd.

**Alright, I know that seems pretty long, and probably not the most well-written thing I could've done, but I wanted to hurry and put something up behind my ridiculously short prologue. Lemmi know what you think, I'll start working on chapter two immediately!**


	3. Chapter Two: Progresion of Blood

Chapter Two: Progression of Blood

_It's been three months since my first fight. I've killed many since then. The crowds love me for the blood I give them. The jailors love me for the money I make them. My fellow fighters, well, they fear the day they look across the arena and see me. Is this my life now? Must I use my skills to shed blood needlessly for the joy of people I do not care for? It has been some time since I last have seen Sellia, and I fear for her. It was me that kept her from being corrupted by the prison walls around her. Now, I almost shudder at the thought of what she has gone through without me…_

"Get up you bitch!" a man said, grasping his broken nose with his left hand, "You'll pay for this!"

Sellia glanced around the room, searching the eyes of the other prisoners in the lunch hall. None made a move to aid her, some even looked about ready to jump in and help Xalic get his revenge. "I think not, pig-face!" As she pushed against the ground, she also spun her prone body and slide along the wet floor right between Xalic's legs. Leaping up, she prepared herself to square off against her foe.

"Ah, aren't you the clever little whore." Xalic grinned as he spun around to face his shorter prey. "When I get done with you, it'll take a bit more than luck and strong will to stand up to me!" He jeered with a gleam in his eye that said he wanted a bit more than a fight with Sellia.

The thought of what he might to do with her disgusted Sellia, and she would have none of it. She hadn't hung around prison for as long as she had without learning anything; the greatest of her acquired knowledge was that of how to effectively hide her own abilities. While the half-orc Xalic had been running his mouth throughout their scuffle, she had deftly grabbed a spoon from the ground.

She now flipped around the utensil from her palm to firmly grip it like a dagger. Springing forward and tucking her legs beneath her chest, she hurdled the 6-foot man before her and landed nimbly just behind him. Bringing her arms forward and wrapping them around Xalic's neck, that spoon jams downward and into Xalic's neck with vicious force, creating a torrent of blood up and outward on the tables in front of him.

Letting his body drop to the floor in a heap, Sellia then brushes her hands off and walks back to where she was eating and sits down. "What?" she says in response to the prisoner staring from across the table.

"Sir, there is a visitor to see you" the slave said.

"Good, send him in." Jailor Karlan said dismissively. The slave took the hint and exited the room.

An extravagantly dressed man then entered the room, a billowing cloak following in his wake. The cloak shimmered with a slightly dizzying aura, making the movement of the man difficult to focus on.

"And who might you be?" Karlan said, refusing to rise to the unknown visitor.

"Why, I am the man who is going to make you a fortune, sir!" the man said, finishing with a bow, sweeping his large cavalier hat off as he did so, showing a bald, but completely tattooed head. "My name is Rhathyn, the Traveler! Maker of Great Fortunes! Master of all Things Mysterious! Finder of-

"Enough! I don't care what titles you give yourself, what in the god's names are you doing here! What do you want!" Karlan bellowed.

"Ah, straight to the point of the matter! I like that in business. To answer your question sir, its not what I want, its what you want! I hear tell of a miraculous fighter in your arena, one who dismantles all those who stand before him. He has made you a mighty fortune in bets has he not?" Rhathyn probed as he took a seat in the chair in front of Karlan's desk.

"By all means, take a seat" Karlan said with an angry glare. "Yes, I suppose it isn't unusual for the city to gossip about the prowess of one of my fighters."

"One of! Ha! I would daresay he is THE fighter you have in your prison. A man who can exterminate even the best battle-mage with no weapons but those he was born with. A man who has cut down the finest swordsman your prison could offer or pay for. A man whose strength bests that of the largest barbarian prisoner you have within your holds. A man who-

"Be silent! I grow weary of your endless talking, if my directness pleases you so, then return the favor and tell me why you're here!" Karlan yelled, nearly rising out of his chair in anger.

"Forgive me sir, I do sometimes get too dramatic. Yes, yes, I have been told such things. Ah yes, the point I am to give you sir, is that I wish to buy from you the prisoner in question. Yes, buy from him, and have him be placed in my services. I believe I have work that might be best accomplished with him in my company." The overly dressed Rhathyn said smugly as he fiddled with the buckle on his belt.

"What? How, exactly, could you ever possibly believe I would ever consent to selling my prisoner?" Karlan said, first with resentment, but his feelings rapidly shifted to humor, for this man must be mad to think he would sell the Silent One.

"Your prisoner? Sir, with all due respect, I believe his imprisonment was put forth by the city of Luskan. Also, I don't believe you let me finish. I never told you the price I have decided his freedom would be worth." Rhathyn responded with near-equal humor.

"Oh I seriously doubt that you have the coin available to make me even think twice on this subject. Besides, I doubt you could make enough money in your entire lifetime to pay a fair price for him!" Karlan was growing more and more uncomfortable by the stranger's growing sense of victory. Karlan had not even gotten close to agreeing and yet this man seemed as if he had already one.

"Jailor Karlan, im willing to offer you the most priceless thing in the world." Rhathyn stated with a smile.

"Ha, and what would you say that is?" Karlan answered, smiling a smile he quickly was beginning to not feel.

"Your life." Rathyn swiftly brought his hand forth with a rapier in it that most certainly was not there before. The tip rested just under Karlan's chin before he could even flinch. "Now, I'm willing to give you a substantial amount of gold before I leave, prisoner in tow; as an act of good faith you see. Seems like an overly fair trade to me, does it not?"

"You'll never make it out of the city, I've allies in every dark corner, I'll hound you to the end of the realm for this insult!" Karlan spat.

"Oh come now, it is obvious you know not to whom you speak. Any 'allies' you think you might have, can easily be removed. I am offering you the chance to wake up tomorrow, and not many I come into contact with have that opportunity." As he spoke, Karlan stared into his eyes, and he learned the true meaning of fear. Rhathyn's eyes glowed with an otherworldly radiance, removing any doubt that the man wasn't speaking the absolute truth about his power.

"Fine, take him." Karlan stammered out. "But good luck controlling him. And good luck if you think he wont end your life, no matter what power you possess." He added with some satisfaction.

"We shall see." Rhathyn said as he let go of the near-quivering man in front of him and turned, iridescent cloak whipping to the side as he moved out the door.

"Yes, we shall."

**Alright, a lot longer than the last one, I know I have tons of problems with past/present tense changes and active/passive voice, but I hope you like it nonetheless. PLEASE review, I need all the help I can get.**


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